


Good Dogs

by AnneMayfair



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:42:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13350108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnneMayfair/pseuds/AnneMayfair
Summary: The Great War, as it is now called, is over.Solas, leader of the Elvhen rebellion, lies dead. General public knows only that he was taken down by two operatives - one human and one elvhen. The rest is unknown. As the world settles down and flames of the rebellion extinguish gradually, ex-soldiers struggle to find new meaning in their lives. To find a balance that keeps them afloat.One of them, Oran Kelly, decided that the best way for him would be opening a mabari sanctuary.And Rasha Lavellan heads there to see if all this petting therapy is bullshit.





	Good Dogs

The war is over.

Oran had to repeat those words every morning. It became a habit, one of many he tracked after the homecoming. Chores helped, too, especially when all of his friends decided that he has been having too much free time. The war is over. He can rest now.

He sipped on a sweetened decaf on his porch as Honeybun lay at his feet. Well, on his feet. One pointy ear twitched as she dreamed of something undoubtedly magnificent. Even with a massive dog weighing him down, Oran wanted to feel more grounded. He observed. Bushes are too tall. Grass is too high. If the dogs allow it, he should do some gardening. Coffee got cold.

Morning dew has just faded and yet already two trucks made a turn on the highway towards his land. He couldn’t see them but he could hear it happening. Bird chirping didn’t overpower car engines. Time to work has come. Setting his coffee mug on the table, Oran patted Honeybun.

“Time to work, Princess,” he cooed at her. The dog opened one eye, sneezed, and went back to sleep. “Honeybun, please. C’mon, baby.”

He nudged her until the mabari reluctantly allowed him to move. By the time Oran stepped down the porch, the trucks parked in front of his garage and several large men and women emerged from them. They all looked glum, dressed in unremarkable baggy clothing, many wearing dog tags over their dark hoodies. Oran wore his under the shirt.

Few of them wouldn’t stop moving their heads. They clearly felt uneasy – a lonely large house and a detached garage in the middle of an open field is too comfortable a target. Oran smiled kindly at them, approaching the group slowly and with arms held in clear view. And in a welcoming wide gesture.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen!” He greeted them, his neatly trimmed beard contrasting with unkempt beards of others. “Are you ready to pet some dogs?”

A small orange ball barreled through his legs and towards the largest, burliest man. With a genuine, happy smile and a word of praise on his lips, the giant picked up the Orlesian puff and showered it with kisses. Others who seemed uneasy became less so.

Old Friends Mabari and Veteran Rehab Sanctuary began another workday.

***

In bewilderment, Rasha watched a girl pick up a torture device of two rounded metal bars smelted together and latch it around her eyelashes. She seemed so unbothered as she nearly lost an eyeball! At least, it looked like it. Her laptop displayed another pleading message. Low battery. With a sigh, Rasha put it to charge. Maybe she should listen to Fen and get something more modern.

She emerged from her bedroom and crept towards the kitchen with a mug in her hands. Pushing a button on an electric kettle, she put her red hair in a bun and waited. And waited. And waited.

Oh. Right. She unplugged all kitchen appliances before going to bed.

As she put it all back, Fenlin walked up to the kitchen isle and climbed onto a bar chair next to it. White hair in disarray, she yawned. After a moment of hesitation, she sniffed and put her chin in her right hand as she scrolled down her InstaPho account. She eyed her sister from time to time. Despite being sleepy, Fenlin noticed every cautious and calculated move Rasha made while simply plugging in a kettle, a coffee machine, and a microwave.

“You don’t have to unplug them every night, you know,” she yawned again. She dropped a like on their mother’s second picture of as many years she’s had InstaPho. A new profile picture, no less. “We have a smoke alarm. If sockets start burning, we’ll know.”

“We won’t know,” Rasha put hands on her hip as she finished plugging everything back in. “They sense carbon dioxide, not carbon monoxide. And since all of our appliances have high content of various plastics…”

With a dramatic sigh, Fenlin dropped her head on the isle, covering it with her right hand. She hummed and mimicked Rasha wordlessly and annoyed her little sister until the latter finished speaking, annoyed and grumpy.

Rasha’s red hair contrasted with their sage-colored kitchen just as much as Fenlin’s white hair complimented it.   
Fenlin raised her head.

“Did you sleep?”

“…which means we’d be dead,” Rasha was caught off-guard by the sentence. “What?”

She hesitated before answering. Instead, she opened a wall cabinet and got a teabag of chamomile tea.

“Yes, and quite well, thank you,” she said with a snort.

“Rasha,” Fenlin pleaded, sitting up properly. “You have bags under your eyes.”

The younger sister didn’t answer. She brewed her tea in silence, feeling Fenlin’s eyes bore holes in her back. In the end she forced herself to turn and face her concerned sibling. Sipping tea, they had a staring contest, another one finishing with a mutually agreed draw.

“I’m concerned that you don’t sleep,” Fenlin said. “You don’t eat well, either.”

“I’m doing fine,” Rasha sighed, leaning against a fridge. “You know I’m healthy and I don’t have insomnia.”

Without saying anything, Fenlin just stared at her sister with wide open golden eyes. Rasha tapped her cup with a finger, feeling only somewhat guilty. It was her turn to sniff.

“Did you know people record themselves applying makeup and they put it on Vidster?” She attempted to change the subject. “Mom would’ve been the star of it if she did the same.”

“It’s called a makeup tutorial,” Fenlin nodded, standing up. She grabbed her phone as she approached her sister. “And Mom hates Vidster, it has videos of her and her ex.”

Rasha leaned in as Fenlin opened her InstaPho again. She clearly wanted Rasha to see something but it took her so long to scroll to it!

“Look,” Fenlin stopped scrolling. Finally. “Maybe let’s go there today?”

The photo depicted a burly smiling man with an armful of a fluffy, fat mabari. The dog’s pleased mug was cute but Rasha wasn’t convinced. She read the account’s name.

“’Old Friends Mabari and Veteran Rehab Sanctuary’?” She sipped tea. “Cool, it’s a place full of dogs for photo-ops. I don’t want to go.”

“Rasha, it’s a dog therapy facility for ex-soldiers,” Fenlin softly said and put an arm around Rasha. “They do a lot of charity work, they’re free. You come, you pet and walk with dogs, and trained psychiatrists help you… if you need help, of course.”

Still not convinced, Rasha took the phone from her sister and scrolled through Sanctuary’s photos. Gods, they had a lot of dogs. Big mabaris, small mabaris, mabaries with only two front legs left, mabaris with no legs left. It looked… calming. Every single photo of each dog. Every photo of a well-maintained house among tall evergreen trees.

And every other photo had its owner, Oran Kelly, either in the background or foreground, hugging a dog. He seemed overly happy on each picture. But every his picture had about two or three times more likes than mere dog pictures.  
There was also, of course, the other man who frequented the photos. A tall slim man with an undercut and a ponytail, a ridiculous combination Rasha never thought possible. But he had it. He was also very pretty.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go because of this meat popsicle?” Rasha snorted, tapping the screen to “like” a picture where the two men held together a legless mabari.

The caption read, “Rahlen caught a fantastic PokeMonsta today! His name is Lord Ticklebottom! Come and say hi, our Sanctuary is always open!”

“No,” Fenlin said in a confident tone that clearly showed her interest. She quickly took her phone back from Rasha, trying to ignore the girl’s sly smile.

Dammit. Was it obvious?

“I’m worried about you,” she repeated words she kept saying as a mantra ever since Rasha came back. “You don’t sleep, you eat very little and not healthily. You don’t go out, you spend hours spacing out.”

“I don’t have insomnia,” Rasha tried to defend herself. “I found a really cool… uh… makeup tutorial!”

She victoriously set her cup on a table and lightly tilted her head.

“Rasha,” Fenlin sighed. “You don’t wear makeup.”

The redhead hesitated before making another statement.

“You got me there.”

“So,” Fenlin reached under Rasha’s arm to pick up the tea. “Let’s check it out. It won’t hurt, it’s just puppies and therapists.”

She drank from Rasha’s cup. Gods, hot tea in the morning is second only to good morning coffee.

“Alright,” Rasha agreed after a solid minute of silence. “Alright, let’s go pet some puppies. But!”

She raised a finger. “If we get murdered there, it’s not my fault.”

Fenlin smiled and kissed Rasha on the cheek, promising to take the blame if they get murdered. She picked up a cookie from a tray and walked back to her room, thinking of what they needed to buy for today’s dinner.

“Hey!” Rasha yelled after some time, the realization hitting her moments before Fenlin closed her bedroom door. “That’s my tea! Brew your own!”

Fenlin closed the door quicker than usual.


End file.
